


Jake (1-4)

by IHazFandoms



Series: Dreamscape Campfire [3]
Category: Dreamscape Campfire
Genre: Dreamscape Campfire - Freeform, Gen, Happy, Poetry, Random & Short, Sad, Writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHazFandoms/pseuds/IHazFandoms
Summary: This is a mix of different things and not necessarily for the person, but it can be taken that way too.
Series: Dreamscape Campfire [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542160





	1. Break Down

I hide behind the wall of what you represent.

I hide the insecurities behind your name.

I hide the discontent of my situation.

I hide behind the same.

Break down.

When I thought I lost,

the path was muddy.

It held me down to the ground,

wishing for me to stay.

It did not want me to leave

and it did not want me plead

for an escape.

It wanted me to admit and it

wanted to help me

Break down.

The sides are blue 

and the top is white.

The fan spins,

drowning out the chaos of outside.

The stars glow,

giving the illusion 

that this is the conclusion

of the story I wrote for myself.

The words were what I wanted

and the words is what can not happen.

I created a world where

my desires were not heard

and the trust I could not see.

The fiction is ready to

Break down.

As soon as I hear you screaming,

I am running.

As soon as I see you hanging,

I am coming.

I drop the wood upon my head 

but never wish that I was dead.

The tears come rolling

and I keep scrolling

to find you. 

I hide behind the wall to 

disguise my feelings.

The mask on my face shows

the lie.

It's cracked.

You can see through to the brown

and see what I wanted you to

from the start. 

But sometimes you are not caring

and I think it's daring for you

to have these actions. 

Something I need is not there

and I search for it on the shelf 

in the warehouse. 

The needle is deep within

the haystack. 

Don't make me find it 

because I easily

Break down.

I am drowning in words

and the ignorance.

I am drowning because of those

who do not wish to see. 

I need help getting out of this water.

When I do,

the chilling air freezes the water

dripping from my body to my

still warm skin.

The wall is what I hide behind

and I have one request.

The wall needs to

Break down.


	2. Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something something ramble ramble insert some joke here blah blah

It was time

and I was aware. 

I aware that once

I stepped into the room,

I'd be the first to speak.

With the arrangement we had

made,

it must be me.

Me on the bed

and you in the chair,

it begins.

He told me he's bad at it

and I don't blame him. 

I'm hesitant to say

for him to not be as well.

What is it that he thinks? 

What is it that he fears?

I fear it'll be me

who breaks that glass.

I'll hurry and rush

and crash right into it,

allowing it to break into 

the many pieces,

too many to count.

There could be blood

and there will be scars. 

But how long will I 

be careful to not crash

into the glass? 

Or will it be him,

trying to reach me? 

Every night

my heart aches,

wishing for it to be 

easier.

I wish that it could

be the story I had

created. 

The one I had envisioned

but it's just that. 

A story. 

Something I had created to

blind myself from reality.

A reality that seems to 

always be against me.

Always against us. 

I'm the vocal one

but not to him.

It's why I come to you. 

Do I start my logs?

Alright, 

I will. 

By voice or words?

Words he may never 

understand as he 

too doesn't look

where I guide him.

He takes my hand,

allowing my lead

but once we reach the path,

he lets go and ignores it.

He could do the same 

with this conversation

we have but these are

only for us. 

You opened this room to me.

You opened yourself to me. 

The room that I was welcomed into.

But if I may ask,

why?

Is it hesitancy or uncertainty?

Is it that it's not what he really wants?

But it's what I do. 

It's what I always wanted. 

That's why you exist, 

in the way I see it.

Please,

analyze.

All of it. 

Everything I've given you. 

And tell me,

please tell me,

what do you think?

I cannot.

That is up for your

interpretation.

But that's your weakness,

seeing things a different way.

You're also blind. 

At least you can acknowledge that.

All I ask of you 

is to trust.

Trust in him,

trust yourself

that you made the right 

decision.

A decision that wasn't

made too early

but it easily could have. 

He's different. 

I should know. 

See past it. 

It's not something I'd

normally recommend,

because it could be 

your end, 

but keep it going,

because you don't want 

to be broken. 

The glass won't break

if neither of you run into it.

Stop worrying 

and live through it. 

Live through the fears

you've built because

of him. 

Although he's given you them,

he's the one to help you move past them.

What do you think?


	3. The Worries Built Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to cry because of the anxiety I feel from all the assumptions I make.   
> I may be tearing up for no reason because none of them could be true.

I returned back to the room

later that day

to see you're still there.

The music plays as 

you nod when I enter. 

It's a room we now share,

but the relationship

remained the same as it

always has been. 

I pull out the crumpled sheet

that was so obviously written

with a shaking hand

and hand it to you

to read.

When will I be able to ask?

When will I feel free to speak

and not be afraid of the

consequences of assumptions?

Is it out of hesitancy or uncertainty?

Are you afraid to act,

to speak,

or did you lie?

I was warned and I followed.

I was warned and I pursued

because it's what I want.

I still do

but hate this feeling that it 

is me.

I'm the vocal one.

I'm supposed to be the vocal one. 

I criticize others for not speaking,

and yet,

that is what I'm doing. 

Fear.

Fear of the glass breaking

and shattering to cut deep.

I cry for the bleeding to stop.

I cry for it to not break.

Don't allow it to break.

Or do it,

if it's pain you want to see.

How can I ask for the truth 

when all I do is lie?

I used to, anyways.

I used to so I could protect myself,

to be safe.

I worry and I trust.

Trust you, 

trust myself 

that I made the right decision.

A decision that wasn't

made too early

but easily could have been.

Am I blinded?

Blinded by the story 

I created myself?

A story to make me forget 

the world is against me?

I'm hoping this isn't true.

It's my paranoia

and anxiety that it is

me.

All the things I want to ask,

I have.

I've guided you,

by the hand,

to show you where to look.

When we reach the road to see,

you drop my hand and ignore me.

Or maybe you choose

not to speak,

like me.

I see you've channeled

our last conversation.

I stand by what I said

before.

Release it. 

And trust. 


End file.
